


The Wind

by sans_patronymic



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sherlock is a Brat, Sleepy Sex, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 17:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14958740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sans_patronymic/pseuds/sans_patronymic
Summary: "Singest of summer in full-throated ease." -Keats





	The Wind

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Come At Once 24-hour porn challenge, with a prompt "hush".

The summer night was too still. Not hot, exactly, but close. Pregnant with the thought of rain, the air condensed on window sills and upper lips without any regard for a thing like sleep. On such nights, the house relaxed: doors and windows yawned wide in hopes of coaxing a breeze. It was no use; the draughts which plagued Baker Street in the winter were all on holiday, it seemed. Nevertheless, the doors and windows remained open.

It was incongruous then, that on this particular summer night, the door to Watson’s bedroom suddenly shut.

“What?” Watson asked the darkness, though it was less of a word, more of an utterance.

“Hush, it’s only the wind.”

The Wind settled into the bed and nestled along Watson’s spine. It was a warm wind that smelled vaguely of stale tobacco. An uncannily Holmesian wind.

“Holmes, it’s late.”

“I know.”

“It’s hot,” he added, plucking Holmes’s arm from around his waist. The arm returned, unfazed.

“I know—that’s precisely the reason I can’t sleep.”

Watson rolled onto his back. In the dim moonlight, Holmes was little more than a silhouette.

“Do you know why _I_ can’t sleep?”

“Why?”

“You.”

Holmes’s face was surprisingly cool against Watson’s neck. As were the fingers which ferreted their way past nightshirt buttons and onto his chest. When Holmes chuckled, he could feel it, like the rumble of thunder.

The Wind was impatient that night. Covers were quickly blown back, legs intertwined. The lips against Watson’s neck began to kiss him. A petulant, demanding wind. There was no resisting such forces of Nature. He took Holmes’s face in his hands and brought their lips together.

Watson’s hands coursed over Holmes’s body, marveling at the fluctuation in temperature: forearms, cool; shoulders, tepid; neck, warm; cheeks, cool; chest, damp with sweat. He was so engaged in his list-making, that he hardly noticed the firmness of Holmes’s cock against his thigh. Nor how it made his own twitch and grow with want. Instead, he thought only of how the air grew hot between them, how difficult it made it to catch one’s breath.

“Damn the heat,” Watson declared, turning his face to the window in search of relief.

A flash of lightening illuminated distant rooftops. On the silhouette of Holmes’s face, Watson caught the faint glow of an impish smile.

“Would it be better if I left?”

“Hush.”

Holmes’s tongue was a firebrand against Watson’s stomach, slithering from the bottom of his ribs to just below the navel. The Wind blew along the path his tongue had made, cool and queer. Another rumble of laughter sounded.

“Better?” asked Holmes.

“You’re so odd.”

“Why is it,” Holmes began, his fingers all the while tracing along Watson’s prick beneath his drawers, “when you say I’m odd, I rather get the impression that you’re quite in love with me?”

Just then, Holmes’s thumb slid across the head of his cock, the pressure just right, just _there_ , that even through fabric, the effect was sublime. Watson’s hips rose. His hands cast about in search of mooring, one catching on to the sleeve of Holmes’s nightshirt, the other tangling in his hair. Hair that was easy to pull tight with a clench of the fist in a quick, rough burst that made Holmes gasp in delight. Easy to maneuver, like a horse by the reins, down, down… So much for list-making.

Holmes guided Watson’s prick through the opening in his drawers. He gave a long, teasing lick before settling himself properly between Watson’s thighs. The firebrand along his length made Watson quiver.The fingers in Holmes’s hair tugged once more, though it was mostly vanity: Holmes needed no instruction in this art. He knew all too well how to reduce the good doctor to a quivering mess. Watson tilted his head back into the pillow and sighed as his cock was enveloped by Holmes’s lips.

Warm here, too, but a pleasant warmth, like a shot of liquor on an empty stomach. Hot to his very bones, until it pulsed in his fingertips. No motion at first, only warmth and pressure. All the while, that wicked tongue dancing the devil’s jig across his cockhead. Then, when he was fidgety and writhing, half-way to delirium—only then, not before—did Holmes’s fingers wrap around the base of his shaft, and his head began to bob.

Out the window, the sky brightened at intervals. In the flashes of lightening, Watson watched as Holmes sucked and stroked and licked, each glimpse punctuated by darkness. Even Nature was a tease. Holmes’s hair was slick with sweat and Watson gripped it with both hands hard enough to make Holmes moan against the prick in his mouth. That moan: reverberating, thunderous, indecent. Enough to make Watson seize and spend. When Holmes kissed him, he could taste the brininess of his own seed.

“Better?” Holmes asked again.

Watson pulled him close by way of reply. “What about you?”

“I’m afraid I’ve already taken care of that… at the cost of your bedclothes.”

“ _Have_ you?”

“I couldn’t help it. With the way you were rousting me about, it was rather a wonder I could concentrate at all.”

Watson snorted.

“You’re so odd,” he said and meant that he loved him very much, indeed.

The air had cooled. As Watson and The Wind snuggled down beneath the covers, a gust rattled the bedroom door. When the sky next lit up, a roll of thunder was close behind. Soon, the dull roar of rain drops on rooftops echoed through the open doorways. No one was awake to hear it.


End file.
